I'm Going Under
by Lascaux
Summary: Jack discovers a property within the Shen Gong Wu that could alter their power. When Jack tells Chase of the new possibilities and hidden potentials of the artifacts, their relationship and partnership begins to bind them together.


I'M GOING UNDER

BY MAL AND STAN

Chase Young didn't usually sit by the phone until the wee hours of the morning, but the thought of what joy it would bring him to hear his sweet baby angel's voice again made it worth the wait. Spicer's voice had the intoxicating ring of an eight-year-old chain smoker, playing tricks on his ear drums and tempting him into sin. The phone rang, and Chase's heart sprung up into his throat.  
"Hey, baby," Chase purred into the speaker, twisting the phone cord between his fingers. The tone of Chase's voice made Jack's penis swell with sickle-cell anemic blood, and he hadn't even replied to his greeting yet.  
"Sup Chase," Jack said coolly, faking himself into thinking that he was way more badass than he really was, "so I was thinking you should come over to my place tonight… I need to talk with you… in person…"  
Chase's heart dropped. The first thing that came to his mind was the nagging question of what that could possibly mean. Good? …Bad? Could Jack want him out of his life? No-- it couldn't. Chase had to block the thoughts from his mind. "Alright, when should I come over?"  
"Wellll…" Jack droned, "my parents and I are taking a break from a five-hour monopoly session, so I'm thinking anywhere frommm… like….. an hour to….. like…..four hours……I dunno."  
The callousness in Jack's voice struck a nerve. "A-alright, pumpkin…" Chase hung up the phone and paced around his palace. He planted himself down next to one of his beloved tigers and stroked its fur in thought, "Oh, my beloved pet tiger, Sprinkles, does he really care for me? Should I let myself take his bullshit with a smile? Should I allow his domination to take over my life? ….NO… I will SHOW him who is boss!"

Chase showed up to the Spicer mansion three hours later—he thought it would be a good time estimate, not too late if he finished early, and not TOO early if the game was still going on. He knocked on the door timidly, which triggered the sound of a chair scraping against the floor in annoyance. Hasty footsteps approached the door, like a stepfather chasing after a misbehaving son with a belt.  
"HELLO? --Oh, Chase, you came a tad early, Mom hasn't gone bankrupt yet. You'll have to wait."  
"C-cant you save it for tomorrow? I mean… its five in the morning, Jack."  
"NO. WE WILL FINISH WHAT WE START."  
"Oh... Okay then…"  
Two hours passed, and by around seven o' clock in the morning, Jack's mother admitted defeat, bowing before her son and sniffing his balls.  
"Yeah, bitch you know I'm the monopoly master, DO NOT CHALLENGE ME AGAIN." Jack slapped her and sent her back to the kitchen.  
Jack's father yelled from the living room, "THAT'S M'BOY!"  
"SHUT UP, DAD, YOU FAGGOT." There was no reply. "Anyway, Chase, to the basement."  
Chase and Jack shut the door behind them and went over to the black leather couch.  
"What did you want to talk about, baby?" Chase batted his eyes slightly, making it clear he had no clue what Jack wanted.  
"…Wait… what…?" There was an odd silence and the two men stared at each other. "--WAIT—oh, fuck, I forgot what I wanted to tell you, sorry." Chase felt a strange feeling boil and brew in the depths of his body. Was it….OH YES IT WAS…..RAGE… Tears flooded to his eyes, "BABY YOU ARE SO HEARTLESS. I WAITED FOR TWO HOURS," he sobbed, "WHILE YOU KICKED YOUR MOTHER'S ASS AT MONOPOLY TO WAIT FOR YOU TO TALK TO ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU MADE SEEM SERIOUS. I THOUGHT YOU WERE BREAKING UP WITH ME," he continued to sob.  
Jack was taken back, "Woah—baby, I'm—"  
"DON'T TOUCH ME," Chase sniffed and pulled his arm away. He moved to the opposite side of the couch, and then leaned over, "I'm tired of you bossing me around! Its not fair! Two people are in this relationship, not ONE, JACK!"  
There was a moment of vulnerability as Chase sobbed into his open palms. Jack felt his hard shell lift, leaving his soft pink middle open like a wound. Jack gingerly took Chase's hands away from his face and lead him into a tender kiss, upon immediately after, Chase's hands flew to Spicer's tiny chicken neck and started to choke the shit out of him.  
"FLABR….GLABLRRRR….SSSS'MMMM SORRYYYYYYY."  
"NO. FUCK YOU. I'M THE BOSS. I AM." Chase increased his grip on Spicer and proceeded to pile drive him into the wood frame of the leather couch. The shock, more than anything, was keeping Spicer from fighting back. Before he knew it, he had his naked-ass in the air and about to receive a gift of long, hard, drippy, throbbing scorn. Jack was never the bottom in his life and it wasn't exactly the best situation or preparation. Chase wanted it to hurt. He wanted his shaft to shoot like fire from a canon full of nothing but gasoline and coal down Jack's sorry, virgin, rectum.  
Because of Jack's loud machinery and experiments, the basement was naturally soundproof, of course, preventing his parents from hearing his cries of help.  
Chase's dick actually had trouble fitting in Spicer's ass, but he pushed on until he was to the hilt. They both swore that they could hear Jack's anus ripping in two. It was like listening to a series of rubber bands pop from stretching beyond limit. Chase knew that he could not fuck effectively without proper lubrication; therefore, he headed to the bathroom and grabbed the nearest tube of toothpaste he could find. Jack was too busy writhing in pain to escape like any smart person would. His ass would feel the wintery freshness of Colgate rape. Upon shooting the substance into the orifice, Chase's weener flew down that mineshaft like a sled at the winter Olympics. Mint and sex filled the air along with screams and grunts of pleasure. That Jack-bots turned their little metal heads in interest and began recording the sight onto their internal hard drives.  
Chase's smooth, tanned, silky skin wrapped tightly around hard, defined, chiseled muscle-- all of them flexing in the act of fornication. His long, silky, conditioned raven hair fell haphazardly upon his broad, strong shoulders. Beads of salty perspiration rolled down his crevices, valleys and mountains of pure muscle. His ass, like two giant bubbles were contained in his fruit of the loom boxer briefs. It was like two melons wrapped in saran wrap, pumping and thrusting away at a canker sore in the mouth of evil.  
Jack's body, on the other hand, although milky and soft, was stringy and limp, and borderline squishy. He only had three chest hairs, and was damn proud of all of them. This pride only gave more reason for Chase to reach around and pluck ALL THREE out of his chest.

Jack was broken.

Plucked like a flower.

He blushed and screamed in agony and ecstasy. He pictured himself on a bed, surrounded by rose petals. Jack turned around and tried to envelop Chase in a passionate kiss but was punched in the face instead. It was love. True love.  
Chase came, without pulling out, of course, and wiped his bloody, come-and-toothpaste covered cock in Jack's hair, then a bit on his upper lip.

Chase left Jack to finish himself off.

Fin.


End file.
